


Plus One

by notaparty



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-08-29 13:42:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16745056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaparty/pseuds/notaparty
Summary: Few things are more nerve-wracking than meeting your girlfriend's family over dinner, especially when you have more baggage than Gotham International Airport like Jason does. Throw in an impending wedding, insecurity issues, and an alien attack, and you have a recipe for a hot mess.A sequel to Anticipation. Batgirl!Steph/Red Hood!Jason.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it turned into a three chapter thing. This is the sequel to my other JaySteph fic Anticipation, but you probably don't have to read that to get this. Basically all you need to know is that Jason and Steph are a couple. Or at least I think that's all you need to know.
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the other two chapters are done, but I'm still tweaking them because I'm not sure how to feel about them yet. Any comments are deeply appreciated :)

_Stephanie_

It had all been fun and games until my middle aged mom, with her low alcohol tolerance, pounded a mai tai and started tucking dollar bills into the male stripper’s g-string as he gyrated to Rihanna. Mom was wearing a paper crown that said Bride!, her equally middle aged friends who had known me since I was in diapers hooting and pounding drinks on either side of her. I was nearly as drunk, which somehow made things all the more surreal.

I locked eyes with my soon-to-be stepsister Hannah across the tiny table, who looked equally weirded out at the hard left turn the night had taken. One moment we were eating dinner at my mom’s favorite restaurant for her low-key bachelorette party, and the next, we were involuntarily shoved in a cab on our way to Gotham’s premiere male strip club.

I mean, I was happy that Mom’s life had turned around so well—she was getting re-married to Hannah’s amazing dad in a few weeks, she had a great job, and she had long kicked her pill addiction. I just wished that her happiness wasn’t manifesting through an admittedly attractive male stripper blowing her kisses. Thank god they didn’t get full on naked.

My phone vibrated in my lap—it was Hannah.

_Bar?? I need so much more to drink to process this._

I snorted. If Hannah needed more to drink, things were getting desperate. _Yes, please._

We excused ourselves and made our way back to the bar. Hannah flopped inelegantly onto a stool and plopped her phone on the bar in front of us. She usually looked a little like a beautiful baby deer—long, thin limbs, huge brown eyes, curly brown hair—but now she looked like a baby deer who had just escaped a bear’s attack. A very drunk baby deer.

“I’ve legit...I’ve never seen that much almost naked dude in my _life,_ and with my stepmom?” Hannah thankfully knew when to check herself because she got herself a water along with another prosecco. I followed suit. “God, this is so weird. It’s good she’s having fun. Having that nice wedding experience she didn’t have before.”

“Yeah, I know.” Needless to say, my piece of shit dad had vetoed any of the wedding ideas my mom had had the first time around, so they had just gotten married at the courthouse with some random dude as their witness. Not exactly a tearjerker of an event. As much as mom downplayed it, she was a total romantic. Harold, my stepdad, had swept her off her feet and I’d never seen her so happy.

Hannah sighed. “Do you think the wedding itself will be fine? Am I doing a good job of coordinating things?”

“It’s going to be great, Hannah.” I’d told her that about a thousand times, and it wasn’t a lie. She was hands-down the most organized human being I’d ever met. Maybe it was the scientist in her that valued order—she was a research fellow at the same research hospital where our mom and dad had met. Everything she did was precise and clean, right down to the Pinterest boards she so lovingly maintained and the outfits she wore.

And, she and Mom were _into_ the planning. Like attending bridal fairs and stuff like that. Their planning was bulletproof. It was nice that they were having the whole mother-daughter bonding experience—Hannah’s mom had peaced out on her dad when Hannah was a baby, and her dad hadn’t seriously dated someone until Mom came around.

“Y’know?” She looked at me and smiled, her normally sharp gaze hazy. “I think it will be. It’s all coming together so well. And I finally locked down a date and everything.”

“Oh?” I hadn’t meant to sound as surprised as I did.

“Yeah! Y’know that guy I’ve been seeing for the past few months? Christian? He agreed to be my date.”

Thankfully I managed to stop myself before I blurted _Ugh, him?_ He was gross. Not to Hannah directly, but because he constantly and blatantly checked me out even though he was dating my freaking stepsister. What was his game plan? To somehow seduce me by proximity? But he never touched me or said anything to me, so I didn’t tell Hannah. She was pretty sensitive, especially when it came to guys. Gentle pushes in the right direction would have to do.

Despite all that, Christian was catnip for parents. My mom and her dad absolutely adored him. I just smiled and nodded through the whole family dinner we had together while making sure my cardigan hid my boobs.

He couldn't have been more different than Jason. Then again, that's why Jason and I fit together—I wasn't exactly the ideal girl to bring home, unless being sassy and kind of foul mouthed was suddenly appealing to the average parent.

“That’s great!” I said, forcing a smile.

“I know! I’m so excited.” She glanced around, as if other people could hear our conversation over the pounding bass. “I think he’s the real deal. Like I might sleep with him.”

“Woah.” Normally a 24 year old woman sleeping with a dude she was dating wouldn’t be a big deal, but Hannah liked to wait before she dove into bed with people she was dating. She admitted that half of it was because she was pretty inexperienced, but she also knew herself well enough to understand how attached she got after getting laid. I hoped she would see how slimy he was before she banged him.

“Yeah.” She drained the rest of her water and looked toward the bartender. “Did Jason tell you if he could come or not?”

I bit my bottom lip. How much of a planning meltdown would she have if I told her I hadn’t even asked him yet? We were definitely a couple, but only to people in our world—basically all vigilante types, plus Hannah and my mom--and strangers who saw us on the street.

It wasn’t that I was trying to keep him a secret. It was just… _really_ complicated. And thinking about it made me feel slightly queasy and filled with dread, so I shoved it in the back of my mind.

“We’re still talking about it,” I finally said. “He’s been on a work trip but I’m heading to his place right after this. I guess I’ll ask then.”

I didn’t mention his “work trip” was in space with his friend/alien princess Kory. Some details didn’t need to be shared.

“I hope he comes.” A little smile slipped onto Hannah’s face. “Imagine, with both Christian and Jason there in suits? We’re going to have to fight off Aunt Lee.”

“Oh god, Aunt Lee.” Aunt Lee was Hannah’s dad’s sister, who was going through an inelegant midlife crisis. She’d had a lot of twenty-something year old boyfriends since her divorce. “She would try to eat them alive.”

We turned when a bunch of excited shouting erupted back toward the dance floor, only to see a stripper grinding the floor to Ginuwine’s Pony. my mom and her friends literally made it rain (singles) over him. Oh _god_.

I took a deep breath and slammed the rest of my drink. Someday down the line, Mom would owe me one for this.

***

“Hey, sweetcheeks,” Jason said the second he opened the door to his apartment later that night (or technically, early that morning), a wide grin on his face. I’d rushed straight from the strip club to his apartment the second he texted me that he was home. His place was closer, anyway, and even though I’d gone from drunk to comfortably tipsy, I wasn’t in the mood to drag myself all the way home.

“Hey, sexypants.” I practically leapt into his arms, pulling him down into a long, steamy kiss. I wrapped him in a hug after, getting familiar with his body and scent again. He didn’t really smell like anything except for Jason with a hint of fading soap, but the smell made me feel centered again.

“Sexypants?” His voice rumbled in his chest. “The fuck?”

“You like?” I looked up, grinning so hard my face hurt. God, I missed him so much. It had been a freaking week but it felt like I hadn’t seen him in years.

“Not on the top of your nickname game, but it’s been a little bit. No shame in being rusty.” He drew me inside with a hand on my waist, closing the door behind us. “You’re wearing a very nice dress, you smell like fruity cocktails, and you’re covered in glitter. Where’d you come from again?”

I dropped my purse and kicked off my heels. “Strip club. With my mom and her friends.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow so high that I thought it would disappear into his hairline.

“Yeah, long story.” I flopped onto his beat up leather couch, motioning for him to come join me. “Bachelorette party gone awry. Saw a lot of dudes in thongs.”

“Jesus.” He easily picked me up from the couch and sat down again so I was on his lap, my head resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped around me. “You aren’t going to make me wear a thong now, are you?”

“Hm, maybe if I’m feeling a little vengeful.” I kissed him on the cheek. “How was your trip?”

He sighed. “Weird. Fine. Space stuff, you know the usual.”

“Of course. I go to my vacation home off the moon all the time.” I rolled my eyes, but I was secretly glad he didn’t give me any more details than that. “Speaking of space, you still want to go to see Alien at that outdoor movie fest next Saturday afternoon?”

“Yep. My whole weekend is clear so we can hang out.” He kissed me.

“Assuming neither of us have to do any ass kicking?” I murmured against his lips.

“Even then. Roy’s got shit handled.” He put his hands on my hips and started to shift me so I was straddling his lap. In the process I accidentally kneed him in this ribs, making him suck in a sharp breath.

“You weren’t injured too badly, were you?” I lifted his shirt. The bruise was big, but it didn't look too awful in comparison to some of the shit he came home with.

“Not besides that bruise.” He ran his hand through my hair, his nails on my scalp sending chills up my spine. “You don’t trust me to tell you when I’m hurt still?”

“Not since you stumbled into my apartment one night, got me naked, then proceeded to pass out with your head between my thighs because you did a half-assed job in stopping the blood flow from a stab wound.”

He played with the ends of my hair, not looking me in the eye. “That was one time.”

“One time too many.” I let out a slow breath. “Sorry. We’ve gone over this like a billion times already.”

“It’s fine.” He ran his hand up my thigh, going from the outside in, leaving a trail of goosebumps. “How about we get naked again and I show you that I’m basically injury free? Would that put your mind at ease?”

I opened my thighs a little so his hand could go higher. His thumb gently brushed the crotch of my panties. “Hm, maybe.”

“Maybe?” He smirked and slid me off his lap, standing in front of me. He played with the drawstrings of his sweats, drawing the waistband a tiny bit lower to show off that nice V of muscle he had on his hips. He slid the bottom of his shirt up just enough for me to get a good view of his delicious stomach—he wasn’t super lean, but that was what I liked.

“Are…are you stripping for me?” I asked when I realized what was happening, abruptly feeling heat pool between my legs. Definitely not the reaction my body had when I was at the club.

“You want me to?” A grin spread across his face the way that made my heart flutter—one side of his mouth went up before the other. “I was just goofing off, but if it gets you wet, I’ll keep going.”

“I don’t know if I could handle it,” I admitted. “Hurry up and get naked.”

“Always so impatient.” He tugged his shirt off, then tossed it onto the back of the couch. “Should I test your patience later?”

I rubbed my thighs together to ease the growing ache between them. “I don't think I need it tested.”

“I’m the judge of that. Come here.” Jason pulled me to my feet before scooping me up caveman style as I shrieked and laughed, harder than I had since I saw him last.

 

***

 

“Sit up. Drink this and take this,” Jason said to me, way too loudly. Was it morning? Was it afternoon? All I knew was that I was hungover as hell despite feeling pretty damn good when I fell asleep.

But now my head was pounding and I felt like the room was now a rollercoaster.

I slowly opened my eyes, only to come face to face with his thighs. I glanced up at him and noticed his semi-hard dick. _Nice_. I waggled my eyebrows.

“Relax, sweets, it’s just morning wood.” He put the pills in my hand. “I wasn’t going to put underwear on in my own apartment to get you meds. You were groaning in your sleep.”

I finally did what he said and took the meds as he got back into bed, big spooning behind me.

“Thank you,” I murmured. He kissed me on the temple, right where it was throbbing.

“Sleep it off and I’ll make you some eggs later,” He said, his dick pressed up against my butt. “And then I’ll fuck you on the kitchen counter until you can’t walk straight.“

I grinned and snuggled even closer to him. He was big on touch. Not just fucking the living daylights out of me, which he would definitely do later, but putting his arm around my shoulder or touching my thigh when we were sitting next to each other. Adjusting my hair or kissing my cheek. Little things like that. He would never shout his feelings for me from a rooftop, but that was totally fine with me.

I drifted back to sleep soon enough, only to dream about being on a rollercoaster with Jason. For whatever reason, the rollercoaster beeped and vibrated.

“Blondie. Phone,” Jason grunted into my ear in the real world. He wasn’t sleeping, I knew, but he didn’t like loud noises in the quiet.

“Wha?” I reached out blindly for my phone. At least my headache had gone away.

I had five texts from Hannah, and my heart immediately started racing. I’d put her in a cab last night and told her to text me when she got home. She’d done that and I’d put my phone away on do not disturb mode.

I checked the first message, praying she wasn’t kidnapped or something.

It was a picture of a fat cat in a deli, sitting on top of a bag of rice.

I let out a breath of relief and kept scrolling through the drunk texts she had sent earlier in the night.

_Omg I met this cat, I got chips and gatorade and I’m waiting for my sandwich_

_I’m best friends with this cat_

_Am I a cat lady_

_I want to steal this cat_

“Did she steal the cat?” Jason asked over my shoulder, his voice rough and sexy from sleep. He rested his ear against mine and pulled me a little closer so he could see.

I laughed and kept scrolling. “Looks like she didn’t.”

She sent me four more photos of the cat doing absolutely nothing. And then one more message from around 10AM— _did Jason confirm whether he’s coming to the wedding with you? Or dinner next Saturday?_

My stomach lurched a little. There was no way Jason hadn’t seen that. Neither of us said anything.

This wasn't the first time my family had invited him to dinner. Months ago, my mom wanted him to come over for my birthday dinner, which I put a hard stop on considering the family tradition of making the birthday person do something embarrassing whether they wanted to or not. The next two times, Jason suddenly had “things come up” that he couldn't tell me about. Turns out he was just going to Brooklyn to hang with Roy to get out of going.

That had been one hell of a fight.

It wasn't that he didn't like me, he insisted. It was that he thought that meeting my family was too much, too fast. That my parents would hate him. That he'd fuck it all up.

He wasn't a feral animal for fuck’s sake. He had normal interactions with people all the time without everything blowing up in his face. And my family was chill, for the most part. We were all born and raised in Gotham, the weirdness capital of the United States, so how weird could he come across? He just had to talk like he did around me, minus the swearing—smart, snarky, charming. I would like him in the super unlikely case that they didn't. But I couldn't convince him of anything, so I let it go.

And ok, he did have a point—he'd never dated anyone before so it felt like a big step. It wasn't like he was required to meet my family. We’d definitely defined the relationship—we were exclusive, boyfriend-girlfriend, the whole shebang. But was that like, long term, marriage or its equivalent? Or was it just fun?

But ’just fun’ likely meant that our relationship had an expiration date, and the thought of that made my stomach clench. Neither of us had said the L word, but sometimes I felt so close to blurting it out when I looked at him that it startled me. I wanted him around for a long, long time, and it felt like the more I pushed, the farther away he tried to go.

“Um, so…” I slowly lowered my phone.

“Dinner and your mom’s wedding,” he said.

“Yeah.” I swallowed and turned in his arms so I was facing him. “Do you want to go?”

“I can't exactly come up with an excuse, can I?” He tried to smile but it came out as a grimace, and it felt like he'd flicked my heart like it was an ant.

“I'd like you to come,” I said quietly, focusing on one of the freckles on his neck rather than his eyes. “You mean a lot to me.”

“You mean a lot to me too, which is why I don't…” He stopped. “I don't want things to go sour between us if your family hates my guts.”

“They won't—”

“But you don't know that for sure.” He started to roll away from me but I threw my leg over his hip and pinned him to me.

“If I'm going to be real, the constant avoidance is starting to irritate me,” I snapped. “Do you not see this going anywhere? I mean, I'm not asking you to marry me or anything. Just to have dinner with my family. Just freaking one time before you decide they hate you.”

My voice cracked and my eyes burned with absolutely ridiculous, hangover driven tears that I didn't even know I was holding in. God, why did this have to happen now? Even when I cried at movies he panicked trying to calm me down again.

“I see this going places. I mean, as far as I can even see forward doing this whole vigilante bullshit. I'm just…” His jaw was tense. “I don't want to disappoint you.”

The sadness in his voice gutted me. I brought his forehead to my lips and gave him a kiss, which made him sigh.

“You won't. I swear. Unless you flip over the table and kick my stepdad in the chest, I'll be happy.”

“Fine, I'll go to the dinner. But if and when they hate me, I’ll decide on going to the wedding then.”

I had the feeling that was the most I was going to get from him, but it was a massive start. I kissed him again, all over his face. “Thank you, Jay.”

He sighed and pulled me into his chest, not saying a word.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnd chapter two :3 Jason's POV.

_Jason_

I was going to a Mexican restaurant with my girl’s family.

I was all over most of that sentence. The last bit almost made the idea of eating a shitton of tacos sound bad. Steph loved her family, and actually listened to their opinions. If they hated me, Stephanie would probably look at me differently. She was an independent thinker, of course, but their disapproval might as well have been the first stab wound to our relationship.

And to make things worse, meeting Steph’s family meant that I no longer only existed in our small little world. It wasn’t like she was bringing home boyfriends all the time. They’d remember me, probably for a long time. I felt, for the first time in both of my lives, kind of permanent somewhere.

It scared the living shit out of me.

But the real kicker was that the idea of _not_ being with her also scared the fuck out of me. Here was this woman who was so goddamn _good_ (and hot and funny), and she wanted to be with me. _Me_ , the guy who most women never saw as anything more than a one night stand, the black sheep. How did I manage to land her? How was it possible for me to like someone more and more every day, so much that just looking at her made me feel a bit better about the world?

We had been together eight months or so, and she hadn’t run screaming. That had to count for something. We didn’t argue often, but when we did, we could swallow our pride and make up. And the rest of the time, being with her felt so easy. I had never felt like that with anyone before, ever. Maybe with Roy, except I wanted to strangle him a quarter of the time.

I even liked having her around almost all the time, despite my usual introversion. She’d made herself right at home in my apartment, like she belonged there. She had a little drawer filled with her clothes, her toothbrush in the bathroom, and her gross cinnamon flavored coffee creamer in the fridge. She wandered around in her underwear, or in one of my t-shirts, which looked so damn good on her that I wanted her to have them all. She liked to flop across the couch like a sleepy cat, smiling at me and inviting me to lay with her. We’d spent a lot of lazy afternoons with her tucked against my body, asleep, while I read a book.

I fucking loved cuddling. I never thought I’d say that, but it was true. The weight of her body next to me was like the sleeping pill I didn’t know I needed.

So, by all accounts, everything was going well. I needed to fucking relax, assuming I could get the metric shitton of baggage in the back of my head to shut up.

I hopped out of the shower and toweled off, taking the time to stare at myself in the mirror. Same face, of course, with two days’ worth of stubble, a couple of freckles from the sun, and a scar here and there. There was also a new softness to my belly that hadn't been there before. I only noticed when some body armor Roy had developed for me was slightly too snug.

“It’s your boo chub,” Roy had said, taking the armor back to adjust it.

“What?”

He raised an eyebrow, like I had asked him what an egg was. “When you're in a new relationship, you're too busy fucking and eating takeout and watching Netflix with your boo to stay shredded. Hence, boo chub.”

And he wasn't wrong. I wasn't going to lift weights when I could get my heart rate up having sex for hours on end, only taking breaks to slam pizza and watch dumb action movies.

My “boo chub” aside, the huge bruise across my ribs was still shitty and fresh. Kory and I had acted as intergalactic exterminators in our last mission—an alien race dropped these little octopus shaped jelly creatures onto planets they wanted to conquer, and those little shits stuck to you like leeches, slowly burning through fabric until they reached your skin.

If they stayed on there long enough, they’d draw the life force out of you until you were a zombie, which took about an hour and a half after an initial shock of burning pain that could bring someone to their knees. It was a pretty decent plan on the aliens’ part; they incapacitated everyone on the planet without a ton of bloodshed, then took the area over, city by city. The best way to kill the aliens was to slash them open, which made them fall off and shrivel up, leaving behind the fragrant scent of piss. We only found out after several failed attempts to get them off, hence the bruise—Kory had a hell of a front kick.

I sighed and rubbed some healing cream on the bruise, turning my attention back to the problem of looking presentable. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I’d look like a clean cut guy with a 9-5 and a savings account, but I figured I should try a little anyway. I put some of product Steph got me into my hair that made the curls somewhat orderly and the shorter sides neater. I even used a little bit of her face lotion, which she sometimes rubbed on my face if she thought it looked dry. It smelled like ass, but it did the job. I dug up a cologne sample that Steph had liked on me and put that on too.

I threw on a dark gray button-down shirt that I hadn’t worn in ages, plus my regular black jeans, and motorcycle boots, then headed over to pick Steph up on the way to the restaurant. I pulled in front of her building and texted her to come out. Moments later, she came rushing out, her blonde hair streaming behind her. I felt the same rush of warmth all over my body, most noticeably to my dick. She was so goddamn _hot._

I’d hooked up with a lot of women, but she took the cake. It was easy to see how today—she was wearing a silky tank top that fell just the right way over her ample breasts and her favorite jeans, which hugged her curvy hips in a way that immediately had me wanting to ditch dinner and stay in bed with her all night.

And the best part—she had an infectious grin on her face that was aimed right at me. It still gave me that butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling, as dumb as that sounded.

“Hey, you,” She said, pulling me into a long kiss before straddling the bike behind me.

“Hey.” I savored her warmth against my back. “You look pretty.”

“Thanks, handsome. Did you put on face lotion?” She was way too delighted at the thought, running her thumb over my cheek.

“If I say yes, how satisfied will you be?”

“So satisfied.”

I paused. “Yeah, I did.”

She grinned, and reached back to grab her helmet. “I’m so excited but we’re almost late. I’ll gloat later.”

I pulled off into traffic once she was settled, my stomach tightening into more knots. Normally I would have broken every speed limit in the city, but instead I took the normal route at a normal pace. I couldn’t put this off any longer, but shit, I could try.

The restaurant was downtown in a new shopping center. The building was shaped like a squat cube with the middle cut out for the massive open-air courtyard. It was two floors high, with stores and restaurants on both levels, designed to have as much air flow as possible through the space. I wasn’t sure what they did in Gotham’s shitty winters, since it was hard to find cover. If the rain blew sideways, you’d probably get soaked. The restaurant, Madre Margarita’s, was on the lower level, and her family was there early in the courtyard.

“You look like you’re going to pass out, babe,” Stephanie said once I had parked. She ran her fingers through my hair and adjusted my shirt. “You look great. It’ll be fun. Besides, we can always get drunk to soothe the awkwardness.”

“Well, thanks.” I let out a slow breath. She tried to take my hand, but I smoothed it down my jeans first. “Sweaty.”

“It’s fine. Just give me.” She laced her fingers in mine and pulled me along, steadying me.

The inside of the restaurant was busy, loud mariachi music playing and people dashing back and forth with trays of food. The hostess pointed us toward the back courtyard so we could find Steph’s family. The doors were open because of the warm night, so the sound of the restaurant spilled into the courtyard. My heart was about to pound out of my chest, and weirdly enough, Bruce’s voice floated through my head.

_Center yourself. Going into a situation before you’ve settled is like walking in with a target on your chest_.

So I took a deep breath and let it out, following Steph to what could possibly be our relationship’s grave.

“Stephie!” A woman called out, standing and waving. She didn’t look anything like Steph from a distance, but up close, I could see that they had the same warm smile and dimples.

“Hey, Mom,” Steph said. My plans to stay centered went right out the window when I realized it wasn’t just going to be her parents and stepsister, who I was prepared for. Some dude who had to be my exact opposite in terms of clean-cutness was sitting there too, a smile plastered on his face. Was this Hannah’s boyfriend who Steph had mentioned?

The guy took a long look at Steph, from her hips to her breasts and my blood went hot. It wasn’t that I was mad that Steph was getting checked out—she was gorgeous, so it happened. But I did have a problem with this guy leering at her like she was a piece of meat, right in front of his alleged girlfriend. I wanted to push kick him off the chair, but he’d probably ooze so much slime that he’d ruin my boots.

“You must be Jason!” Her mom came around the table and shook my hand, momentarily distracting me. “I’m Crystal. So wonderful to finally meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Ms. Brown,” I said, my voice coming out meek as fuck. Killer first impression, Todd.

She laughed. “Oh please, call me Crystal. And this is my fiancé, Harold.”

Harold had a kind face that almost put me at ease. He stood, almost as tall as I was, but reedy, and shook my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“And this is Hannah and her boyfriend, Christian,” Crystal said, gesturing toward the two remaining people. Hannah, who I’d heard a lot about, smiled at me as I shook her hand. I took a longer look at Christian, hopefully putting him on guard with my stare. I did the crushing alpha male handshake move, which was an asshole thing to do, but he didn’t make his discomfort obvious.

_This_ was the guy every mom wanted her daughter to bring home, like he was genetically engineered to please. Blandly good looking—not so good looking that you could easily imagine him fucking around behind your daughter’s back, but good looking enough to be in a holiday photo with a golden retriever or something. Baby smooth hands that had never seen a fight before. Nice clothes that were in a color besides gray or black.

I couldn’t run away from this now, but god, did I want to.

Once everyone was introduced, I sat down between Steph and Christian, across from Crystal and Harold. Thankfully everyone busied themselves with the menu while I tried to pull my shit together again. They must have known Christian already from the way they chatted with each other, which only added to the burn of me taking forever to meet them. Hannah had been with him for a month or two, tops, according to Stephanie.

It was kind of fucked up, but what soothed me in any situation was scoping out a space—its exits, good hiding spots, good vantage points. This place wasn’t great. The open air meant that everyone was susceptible from attacks from above, but at least there were overhangs where people could take a little bit of cover. But on the other hand, there were clear paths from the street straight into the courtyard since the doors were open, so the hiding spots probably wouldn’t work for long. At least everyone could get out quickly, if necessary, which was usually all I wanted in a fight situation.

Once I had all of those in line, I focused on the menu again. Standard Mexican food, so I could have eaten anything. For once, though, I wasn’t really hungry.

“Do you guys need another minute?” A waiter appeared over my shoulder. He looked dead inside despite his upbeat voice, but so would I if I had to listen to the same mariachi music on loop for a full shift.

Steph ordered us a pitcher of frozen margaritas, thankfully, and we all gave him our orders.The waiter took off, leaving with our menus. Now I had nothing to fiddle with besides the teeny sombrero that sat on top of each napkin.

“Such a lovely night,” Crystal said, smiling. She looked so much like Steph in that moment that it was a little eerie. “I’m so glad you could make it, Jason. Stephie says you’re very busy.”

I nodded. Technically not a lie.

“How did you meet Stephanie?” Christian asked, looking to Steph. His eyes stayed above her neck this time.

“We met at a bar. Nothing exciting.” Steph shrugged. Vaguely close to the truth.

“Ah, I figured you guys met boxing,” Christian said, gesturing to my knuckles. My gloves had torn and they’d gotten a little shredded. “You fight?”

“Yeah, a bit,” I said, putting my hands back in my lap. Overly observant ass.

“That’s cool. Good way to stay in shape.” He eyed my shoulders, then sat up a little straighter. There was no way he could ever look bigger or more muscular than me. Usually I would have felt a twinge of pride, but instead, I felt brutish in comparison to him, like I should have been the bouncer instead of a guest. I hadn’t been self-conscious about my height in ages, especially not since Steph and I got together.

As if she read my mind, Steph grabbed my hand and squeezed. And as if the liquor gods decided to bless me, the waiter returned with the margaritas and chips. He filled our glasses and we clinked them together. I sipped as slowly as I could even though I wanted to dump the whole pitcher down my throat.

“Christian and I have thought about taking this kickboxing class, but maybe you guys can teach us a few moves. Steph keeps trying to get me into self defense classes,” Hannah said, snorting. Steph was dead serious, though, since Hannah was blissfully naive and built like a baby bird. She needed all the help she could get.

“That would be fun,” Christian said. “And maybe we could also do a fun run or something, just to make it even. I’m afraid my right hook isn’t anything special.”

He passed it off as a joke but there was a tinge of jealousy in this voice. No one else seemed to notice.

“The words fun and run should never be next to each other,” Steph said, throwing back more margarita.

“I started to like jogging after I got into it,” Crystal said. “To get in shape for the wedding. It could be a family activity!”

Family activities, Jesus. The only family activities I had been a part of were training until I puked, yelling, or going to fancy parties where I got so drunk that I puked into the closest fountain. It was always a fountain for some reason.

“Yeah, my family ran a Turkey Trot 5k on Thanksgiving last year,” Christian said. “Though I'm from Florida. I'm sure the weather here in Gotham at Thanksgiving isn't great. Are you born and raised here too, Jason?”

I knew he was doing that thing that was allegedly polite by pulling me into the conversation, but I hated him for it.

“Yep.” I sipped my drink.

“Cool, what neighborhood?”

“All over,” I said, managing to keep my irritation out of my voice. I couldn't say both the Wayne Manor and the sketchiest neighborhoods. “I moved a lot.”

“What do your parents do?” Harold asked, not in an accusatory way, but I felt like I was on the spot.

“They're dead.” Kind of, But then again, so was I. “I was in foster care until I got emancipated when I was 16.”

Crystal nodded like she understood, but I got that pitying look I loathed from Christian and Harold.

“I'm so sorry,” Christian said, like I'd told him they died yesterday. He tried to seem sincere but I already hated him so much that I figured he was faking it.

“It's not a big deal.” I shrugged. My face was getting hot, so I diverted the attention away from myself. “Why'd you move to Gotham of all places?”

“Law school.” Christian shrugged, like it was no big deal, which made it clear he thought it was a very big deal. He looked at Stephanie, like no one else was at the table. “I fell in love with it when I spent a summer volunteering with underprivileged kids right after I graduated from Dartmouth, and Gotham Law School is a good school.”

I had grown up with snobs who thought I was nothing, but it had been a while since I'd let myself feel so small. This guy was a douche, so why was he getting under my skin? Was it the look of pride on Harold’s face, seeing his daughter with this “upstanding” guy? Or was it just the contrast that threw all of my weaknesses into a brighter light?

Or the fact that he was trying to brag as a weird way of flirting with my fucking girlfriend?

“You two have a little overlap, then,” Crystal said, seemingly unaware of Christian’s attempt to flex for Steph. “Stephanie said you work in private security, Jason? Is that like being a private cop?”

I couldn't help but laugh at the thought of being a cop and actually enforcing the law instead of breaking it. “I mean, sort of.”

“Or is it more like a security guard?” Christian asked, plainly acting like I was nothing more than a rent-a-cop.

Steph said the only way I could fuck this up would be if I flipped over a table and kicked her stepdad in the chest, but would she be pissed if I did that to this ball of shit? Ok, probably, but she would understand.

Steph squeezed my hand way harder than she did when she was just comforting me, keeping her face as calm as possible. Knowing her, she was about to lose her shit and it made me proud. “No, it's much more specialized. Right, Jay? Like a private CIA agent.”

“Yeah, sort of.” I felt too scrutinized, like we were getting too close to the truth, so I stayed quiet for a long moment. The burn of the alcohol wasn't helping me calm down either, and if this guy said anything else I would lose it. “Excuse me for a minute, just need to run to the bathroom.”

I found the bathroom inside the restaurant and found it empty, thankfully. I stared at myself in the mirror and took a few deep breaths, running water over my wrists. The goal was to get Stephanie's parents to not hate me, not to rip this guy a new asshole. Crystal seemed to like me enough so far, just based on her expressions, but I hadn't really said much. My first impression wasn't awful, but there were still some ways the night could go wrong.

Once I took a few more calming breaths, I stepped out, right into Steph.

“You ok?” She asked, taking my hand.

“Mostly, except I might stab Christian by the end of the night.” I snorted. “Am I doing an ok job?”

“You're always doing a great job, babe.” She pulled me closer to her to let someone by, and I rested my hands on her hips. “My mom likes you, at least. She thinks you're a good contrast for my wild side.”

I laughed. “I've barely said anything.”

“Strong and quiet, at least at this dinner.” She pointed at me, then at herself. “Feisty and kind of loud, almost always. Perfect match.”

I had to smile and let myself relax.”If you say so.”

“I do say so. And also I might stab Christian first, so hold me back.”

“He's a fucking douche.”

“For real. At least Mom seems to be picking up on it, finally.” She went on her tiptoes. “Kiss?”

I leaned down and gave her a soft kiss, a little overwhelmed with my affection for her. Sometimes it just shot up in me like a geyser.

“Let’s go back outside before they think one of us got sick or something.”

She took my hand and weaved her way through the restaurant, which had somehow gotten even more packed. People were mingling at the different bars on the other side of the courtyard, enjoying themselves.

“Oo, pretty—paper lanterns,” Steph said, looking up when we stepped out under the overhang.

I followed her gaze to a familiar purple jelly octopus-ish thing floating down from the sky.

Mother _fucker_.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter :3 Thanks so much for reading/leaving comments--they fill my dark soul with soft feelings.

“What's wrong?” I asked, looking up at Jay instead of the paper lantern. It was shaped like an octopus, but looked like it was made out of jelly, glowing in the evening light.

 

“Remember that mission in space I just got back from? It was destroying about a thousand of those little fuckers falling from the sky right now.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “So there are more coming and everyone outside is fucked.”

 

“What?!” I dropped his hand. “Oh come on, we can't have one normal night out?”

 

“Apparently not.” He watched the little alien land in a tree in the courtyard.

 

I scanned the area. Of course it was probably the worst place to be for an attack from the sky—the courtyard was open to the air, not much coverage by the few trees there, and the overhangs weren’t big enough to have everyone in the courtyard hide underneath them. The doors to the stores and restaurants were also open so a breeze could mess everyone else up too.

 

“Oof, ok.” I whipped out my phone and pinged Babs. “Let me call Oracle and get some back-up, first.”

 

“I’ll call Kory too.” Jason pulled out his phone too, typing quickly.

 

Two or three more jellies floated down. Thankfully no one noticed. With all the noise and people in the courtyard, we had a tiny bit of extra time to get our shit together. But not much more.

 

“So how can we get everyone out without causing a panic or revealing our identities?” Jason asked.

 

I paused, turning the problem over in my head. “What happens when they land on you?”

 

“They suction onto your skin and slowly suck the life out of you until you're basically a vegetable. And it fucking burns where they touch your skin. The only upside is that they can't get a good grip on head hair.” He reached behind him to his lower back, where he usually had a holster. He didn't have one today, which I was semi-thankful for right until this point.

 

“Oh, wonderful.” I stared down at my phone, willing Babs to get back to me. “And I'm guessing they're hard to kill?”

 

“Not really—you just have to slash them open and they fall off. And they smell like hot piss when you cut them open.”

 

“Lovely.” So we could have a ton of zombies covered in pee jelly if we didn’t figure out what to do, and fast. “We need to get everyone inside.”

 

I felt more and more helpless by the second. Even more jellies were falling. They were still high up, but people were bound to notice soon.

 

I watched as our waiter dropped off our food. There was no way I could get all of them away from the table. Mom, maybe, if I said I wasn't feeling well. Hannah too. But that left Harold exposed. And Christian, I guess. I couldn't let the life get sucked out of him even if he was a creep.

 

“Babs can tap phones, right?” Jason asked. “Get her to send an alert to all the cell phones in Gotham to get everyone under some cover.”

 

As I dialed her number again, the sky turned purple. Not because of our glorious, pollution-induced Gotham sunsets, but because a whole swarm of jellies started to rain down, funneling straight toward the courtyard. Shit.

 

“Oracle here,” Babs said, even though she knew it was me.

 

“Mad urgent—y’know how I asked for backup like two minutes ago? Can you send out an alert to everyone in Gotham asking them to get inside, like yesterday?” I stared up at the sky in horror, while everyone else looked up in confusion or delight.

 

“Give me five minutes and I can get it done,” she said, her typing picking up in the background. “Supergirl’s on her way, but from Texas, so it might take her a bit. And Nightwing was in the neighborhood, so he's running over to help.”

 

“Can it be three? Or like now?”

 

“Five. Talk soon.” And she hung up.

 

“What do we do in the five minutes between the alert going out and now?” I asked. I didn't want to mention the whole Dick thing to Jason, not yet anyway.

 

“Oo, ow,” a man said nearby, loud enough for people to turn around. A jelly had landed on his opened hand, and wouldn't come off. His panic ratcheted up when the realization that this was definitely not a normal thing finally sunk in.

 

“Wing it? The usual?” Jason asked, leaning down and digging into his boot. “I only have my boot knife with me, so we’ve got the slashing part down.”

 

“Same!” I said, pulling mine out with way too much enthusiasm. He’d gotten me my knife as a gift after I admired his. “How weirdly romantic.”

 

“I’d kiss you, but shit’s about to get real.” He grinned, then looked at me from my feet to my chest analytically, rather than like he wanted to rip my clothes off. “You're going to need a long sleeved something or other. And in the thickest fabric you can find in one of those stores—they can dissolve through fabric until they reach skin.”

 

More jellies descended onto the crowd fear bubbling up in the spots where they had landed. Some people started to duck under the awnings, but things were mostly under control. I looked back at our table and noticed Mom looking up at the jellies.

 

“Mom!” I shouted before I could stop myself. She looked up, startled, and saw me holding my knife. But before she could react, a jelly landed on the table. I tried to lunge forward but Jason threw an arm out, stopping me.

 

“Go get something to cover your skin. I'll handle your family.” And he ran out, knife out. 

 

I didn't wait to see how he did—I ran under the overhang to the closest store. The chaos had picked up exponentially, so no one seemed alarmed by me running into the store wielding a knife. Everyone was too busy crowding into the small store, phones out to record the mayhem.

 

“Can I borrow this? Thanks!” I grabbed a men’s leather jacket, threw it on, and ran back out into the chaos.

 

People who hadn't been touched by jellies shoved past me, trying to get inside. Unfortunately they'd come down so quickly that a lot of people were on the ground, writhing in pain with jellies all over them.

 

I crouched next to an older woman, who had some stuck to her arms. Like me, she’d worn a sleeveless blouse and jeans. She looked at me, startled, and started to back away from me before I touched her shoulder.

 

“I'm here to help—not sure if this will hurt or not.” I slashed a jelly and it fell off, opening like I’d stabbed open a cup of pudding. And holy shit it _really_ smelled like pee. Like fifty porta-potties worth of pee. The woman’s nose wrinkled, but her relief that they weren’t stinging her anymore was stronger.

 

I quickly slashed off the rest of her jellies and told her to run to cover. As I made my way through the fallen people, cutting as many jellies as I could and shoving people toward shelter, I started to feel a tingling on my shoulder. A jelly had attached and was eating its way through the leather to my skin. Once it suctioned onto my flesh, I groaned, the sting and the draining feeling coming on immediately. I slashed it off but the stinging lingered.

 

Soon I was slashing more jellies off myself than I was the people I was trying to save. The stinging pain, on top of the draining feeling caused by the jellies, made me feel like I was wearing a necklace made of stones. I sank to my hands and knees under a plastic table umbrella to take a break, trying to shake the feeling.

 

“Stephanie.” Suddenly Dick appeared in front of me in street clothes, also wearing a thick leather jacket and jeans. “You good?”

 

“Exhausted,” I mumbled, the edges of my vision going dark. I shook my head.

 

“Stay still.” He pulled an Epipen from his sleeve and jammed it into my thigh. “The adrenaline should help in a second. Jason is here, too. Do you know if he's connected to this?”

 

The adrenaline pumped through my system, bringing me back to life.

 

“What? No, he's with me.” I swept some more jelly from my arms.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

I'd forgotten that I hadn't exactly mentioned the fact that we were dating to anyone but Babs and Cass. Not that I was keeping him a secret but y'know. Word didn't travel apparently.

 

“We’re together. Like, boyfriend-girlfriend. He was meeting my family, but aliens.” After the shock registered on his face but before he could respond, I darted out to start slicing jellies again.

 

Suddenly the sky cleared with a blazing red light. I looked up to see Supergirl and Starfire zooming through the air, lasering the little aliens to ash before they could hit the group. Way up in the air, in what had to be the stratosphere, there was a huge explosion. The alien ship the jellies were falling from, I hoped.

 

Without more jellies falling, I slashed off the rest of the ones on me and got to work on helping everyone else. People were dazed and in pain, but for the most part, they were fine. Ambulances blared in the distance. Oracle’s alert had gone out, so hopefully most of the damage outside of the shopping center wasn't bad.

 

“Sweetheart?” Mom called, rushing toward me. Her cardigan had a hole in the shoulder but otherwise she looked fine. So did Hannah and Harold, thank god. Christian looked like he had been doused in jello, but fuck him, who even cared?

 

Jason was behind them, a little worse for wear. He’d found a jacket somewhere and it was burned through in a lot of places, and his hair was damp. But he was ok, and that was all that mattered.

 

“You ok?” I asked, hugging Mom and looking her over. She was pale and had definitely cried, but she looked weirdly happy.

 

“Yes, thanks to Jason.” She looked over her shoulder at him, almost proud. He full-on blushed, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away. He could be so adorable sometimes and he didn't even realize it. “He saved us before those little things could attach themselves for too long. Just picked me up like I was a kid and took me to safety.”

 

“Thank you,” Harold said, clapping his hand onto Jason’s shoulder. “If it wasn't for your quick thinking, we'd be goners. How'd you figure out that they fall off when cut?”

 

Jay shrugged, still red in the cheeks. “Luck.”

 

Mom glanced at me, the gears finally clicking into place as to where I'd met Jason. She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Harold and Hannah were blissfully unaware, thankfully. Christian sulked, not even trying to keep it together anymore. The paramedics had set up a station for people to get their burns treated across the courtyard, and he wandered off without saying anything.

 

“I guess we should get checked out too,” Hannah said, wrinkling her nose at Christian’s back. “Of all the weird stuff that happens in Gotham, why did we have to be affected by the one that smelled like pee?”

 

My family went off to the station after I assured them we were fine. Jason rested his hand on my lower back.

 

“You ok?” He asked.

 

“Aside from the fact that I smell like a music festival portapotty, yeah.” I wanted to kiss him but his skin was wet with alien jelly.

 

“Hey.” Dick came up to us, his hands in his pockets. Like everyone else, he was soaked, but seemed to be generally ok. Jason pulled me closer, as if he was a threat.

 

“Hi,” Jason deadpanned.

 

We stood in uncomfortable silence for a second before I slowly said “yeah,” drawing the word out. They were having a stare-off, like two cats getting ready to fight in a parking lot. I half-expected Jason to start growling.

 

“How long have you two been together?” Dick asked, finally.

 

“Eight months,” I said.

 

“Hm.” Dick studied us, a slight smile coming onto his face. “I was surprised at first, but now I'm not. You guys are sort of like peanut butter in spicy Thai dishes. You wouldn't think it'd work, but if you know the two ingredients, they really do.”

 

“Am I the spice in this situation?” I asked, grinning.

 

“Yeah, because I'm the peanut butter. Delicious, but sometimes lethal.” Jason smirked, and Dick gave him a good-natured eye roll.

 

“You seem to be keeping him out of trouble,” Dick said to me.

 

“I'm keeping myself out of trouble.” There was a tiny twinge of pride in Jason’s voice. “Mostly.”

 

Dick just sighed. “Well, keep doing what you're doing. I'll see you around.”

 

Once Dick was out of earshot, Jason muttered, “He almost makes me want to fuck some shit up out of spite.”

 

“But he would love being proven right,” I pointed out.

 

“Ah shit, that's true.” He sighed. “Let's go get cleaned up. And maybe get some food that's not covered in alien guts.”

 

 

_A month later_

 

I swore to myself that I wouldn't cry at Mom’s wedding, but I cried like I had just been cut from an episode of the Bachelor. I didn't have the slightest bit of chill. But honestly, it was beautiful and perfect. Mom was so happy. I'd never seen her glow more.

 

Thank god the makeup artist had given us all waterproof mascara. Hannah touched up my makeup before we started standing for photos, which was taking a century. The pins in my elaborate, vintage-inspired updo stabbed my scalp; My pale blue, off the shoulder, tea length dress kept sliding down despite the fact that I had plenty of boobage and tape to hold it up. And the heels were hell. I appreciated the photographer’s desire to get things right, but I needed to go sit somewhere.

 

“And that's it for the wedding party. Go enjoy the cocktail hour!” The photographer said, shooing us away.

 

“My face hurts from smiling,” Hannah said, rubbing the hollows of her cheeks as we walked away.

 

“Same.” I kicked off my heels and picked them up, not a single shit left for me to give. Based off the music in the ballroom downstairs and knowing my extended family, my bare feet were probably on the low end of the trashy guest behavior spectrum for the night.

 

The venue was one of my favorite parts of the wedding. Harold had pulled some strings to reserve a beautiful old mansion just outside of town, where I’d actually been to some Wayne Foundation events (I guess Bruce got tired of the own ballroom in his friggin’ manor from time to time.) There were a bunch of smaller rooms on the upper floor, where we were, one of which opened up into the ballroom. A wide, marble staircase connected the two floors. It was basically tailor-made for Cinderella-type entrances, which was how Hannah had sold Mom and Harold on the place—Mom wanted it to be romantic as hell, and her sweeping down the stairs into Harold’s arms would check that box.

 

When I stepped onto the landing and looked down at the crowd, all I could see was Jason standing at the bottom, staring up at me like I was an actual princess. I broke out into a grin, my heart fluttering at the sight of him, even though I’d already seen him once before the ceremony. He looked absolutely delicious in his suit, just the right mix of classic and modern, like a slightly casual James Bond. Someone once said that suits were to men as lingerie was to women, and shit, were they onto something.

 

“Hey, you,” he said once I launched myself at him after running down the stairs. He kissed the top of my head and wrapped one arm around my waist since he was holding his drink.

 

“Hello, Mr. Bond,” I said, winking and taking his martini from his hand. “Is this shaken, not stirred?”

 

“I got it stirred, not shaken. Had to keep the bartender guessing.” He grinned back at me, then nodded at Hannah, who gave us a thumbs up on her way over to the bar holding hands with a very cute, not-creepy young doctor Mom worked with. She’d dumped Christian after his behavior at the dinner—in addition to being a total skeeze to me, he didn’t even try to save her from the whole jelly situation. Thankfully she realized that just because a guy was good on paper didn’t mean that he was a good person.

 

I took a flute of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and handed Jason his drink again. We sipped in companionable silence, watching the people on the dance floor.

 

“Remember the night that we danced at that club?” He asked. “On our first mission together?”

 

I nodded, remembering the way he had looked at me in my dress that night. It still sent a nice thrill through me thinking about it. “That was fun. Want to dance again?”

 

“I don’t think we can grind at your mom’s wedding,” he said, laughing.

 

“Um, that’s not stopping my aunt Lee.” I gestured toward Aunt Lee, who was dancing all up on one of my mom’s cousin’s sons who had just turned 20 the month before. Yikes.

 

“I don’t think a hurricane could stop her.” He snorted. “You’re right, though. C’mon.”

 

He pulled me onto the dance floor, wrapping his arms around me. We weren’t grinding or anything, but I was close enough to him to absorb his body heat and scent. He wore the cologne that drove me crazy. When it mixed with his natural smell, it took a lot of willpower for me to not jump him right then and there.

 

We got into the groove, enjoying ourselves for a few fast songs before it slowed down to a Billie Holiday song. He pulled me closer so we didn’t have to move around much, his cheek resting on the top of my head and his arms around my waist.

 

“This is almost overwhelmingly romantic,” I murmured into his chest. I thought I’d killed the vibe immediately, kind of like how saying something was awkward only made it more awkward, but he lifted his head and looked down at me.

 

He smiled again, at first soft and warm but it shifted into something mischievous. “Are you going to start crying? Because if so, I have tissues that one of your great aunts passed down my row.”

 

I smacked him lightly on the chest, which only made him laugh. “Hey! The ceremony was touching.”

 

“I’m just teasing you.” He kissed my forehead. “It was a really nice ceremony. They both look really happy.”

 

“I’m so glad everything worked out,” I said, referring to the wedding itself and to him coming.

 

After the jelly alien incident, Mom and Harold took to Jason like fish in water. They thanked him over and over again for saving them, and invited him to a proper dinner—somewhere inside. And Jason said yes. The dinner was great, especially since it was just us four. Jason made Mom laugh with some of his cleaner, snarky comments, and impressed Harold with his medical knowledge. Harold didn’t need to know it came from dressing his own wounds during gang battles. It was like Jason was meant to be there all along.

 

After dinner, when Mom and I were washing our hands in the bathroom, she turned to me and asked, “Is he…you know. One of you?” Meaning a vigilante type.

 

“Yeah,” I said. “But that’s all I can say.”

 

“I figured. He seemed way too good at saving people.” She handed me a paper towel. “He’s a good egg under all that bad boy leather, hun. You should keep him.”

 

I snorted, feeling my face heat up. “He’s not a puppy, Mom. I can’t ‘keep him.’”

 

“I’m serious.” She looked at me dead in the eye, her Serious Talk face on. “You two look happy together, and that’s a rare find. Don’t take it for granted.”

 

And I didn’t, especially now, in his arms. The song ended and we parted, holding hands.

 

“Want to get some air?” He asked, shucking off his suit jacket. “It’s humid as hell in here.”

 

He led me outside onto the huge balcony that spanned the back of the building, overlooking the elaborate garden. Some other guests were outside, mingling and drinking. Jason led me to one of the quieter corners behind some huge potted bushes and sat us on a bench. The music was almost quiet here. He loosened his tie and put his arm around my shoulders.

 

“I thought you said you needed to cool off?” I asked, snuggling closer to him.

 

“I needed air, not to cool off.” He ran his hand up and down my upper arm. “I just wanted to sit.”

 

I looked up at him, admiring his square jaw. He’d shaved, but he still looked just as hot as he did with his usual scruff. He had a gentle smile on his face as he stared off in the distance. Content. Happy. Things I knew he hadn’t been for a long time. Things _I_ hadn’t been in a long time either, not until we got together. A warm feeling settled in my belly, like drinking hot cocoa on a cold night, and radiated through my chest.

 

“I love you,” I blurted. He blinked and looked down at me, startled at the break in the quiet.

 

Silence hung in the air, draining the life from me little by little since I couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. He wasn’t upset, or scared, at least, even though dropping the L-word was like stomping on the accelerator in our relationship.

 

And then, he finally grinned and kissed me, long and slow and soft. When we parted, he whispered, “I love you too. Didn't think I'd ever say that to anyone.”

 

I kissed him again, feeling like there was a fireworks show in my heart. We paused and rested our foreheads against each other, kissing briefly from time to time. We just soaked it all in, this little bubble of perfection we’d somehow landed in. It felt like a little miracle after all of the bullshit that we’d been through, from our complete cluelessness about our feelings for each other when we first met to now.

 

“Also, have I told you that I never get tired of looking at you?” He said, studying me in a way that made me feel more than just beautiful. He was rarely soft like this, but it always sent tingles down my body to my core.

 

“Yeah.” I pecked the tip of his nose, smoothing my thumb across the ridge where it had been broken once or twice.

 

“I’ll keep telling you all night. And all day tomorrow, and the day after that.” He cupped my face. “And long after that.”

 

“You need to plug that into your calendar, sweetcheeks? That’s a lot of moments to remember.” I bit my bottom lip to contain my smile, but it didn’t do much.

 

“Of course not. I’ll have your face to remind me everyday.” He snorted, his face going a little pink. “I know all that was cheesy as fuck but neither of us are lactose intolerant. We’ll live.”

 

He brought his lips back to mine, swallowing my giggles at his dorky joke and kissing me with more fervor than before. All of the pent up love I had been feeling went into that kiss, and all of my modesty went out the window. I ran my hand across his chest, down to his crotch, and he groped at my breasts, making my nipples harden with the brief contact. He kissed down the side of my neck, nipping at my collarbone and resting his hand on my knee. That was his signature move—sucking on that spot and letting his hand climb up my inner thighs got me soaking every time.

 

“We can’t have sex on the balcony at your mom’s wedding,” Jason said as we pulled apart, his lips puffy from all the making out. “No matter how in love we are.”

 

Hearing him say that we were in love made me so giddy that I thought I’d burst into a bunch of confetti. “But we _could_ have sex in the room where we got ready since no one has any reason to go in there now. Even if it is a total cliche to have a hookup at a wedding.”

 

“Where’s that room?” He asked, pulling me to my feet.

 

“Up the stairs, last door on the left.”

 

“How much of a scene would I be making if I carried you there for the sake of speed?”

 

“Do you really care?”

 

“Not a damn bit.”

 

I threw my arms around his neck and hopped—thankfully he caught me. “C’mon, then, sexypants. Let’s go.”

 

—End—

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, debating whether I want to write the smutty scene that comes directly after this. Y/N?


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